


Getting Picky

by mrua7



Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Friendship, Gen, Partnership, Spies & Secret Agents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-17 00:39:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 907
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10582806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrua7/pseuds/mrua7
Summary: The agents stop along the road to come to the assistance of woman whose van has broken down...





	

  
The prompt:

With Kuryakin in the driver’s seat and Solo in the passenger side of their black sedan, moving at a fair clip along the scenic road. They were at a higher elevation, and it seemed as if they were actually in the clouds.  
  
They passed a white Volkswagon bus parked on the side of the road; leaning against it was a blonde wearing a cut off tee-shirt, very short shorts, and of all things...a straw hat. Not quite a sight one sees every day.

“Illya, pull over a minute, maybe she needs help,” Napoleon pointed back with his thumb.

“She looked quite happy, and does not look like she is having a problem; I am sure someone else will come along soon enough to help her as this is a busy road. We need to get to our rendezvous on time, though I know timeliness is not in your vocabulary.”

“I’m going to ignore that. Now as senior agent I’m ordering you to go back. We can’t leave a damsel in distress, it’s in our job description.”

Kuryakin hit the brakes before he rolled his eyes. “When will you stop making up these ridiculous things?”

“Illya.” Napoleon gave him a wag of the finger, flashing him that cautionary Solo 'look'.

“All right, if you insist.”

“I do.”

The Russian put the sedan in reverse, backing it up until he put it in park right in front of the van.

“I will wait here,” Illya huffed

“You do that.”

That waiting consisted of Kuryakin getting out of the car and leaning against it, his arms crossed in front of his chest to give him easy access to his gun nestled in its shoulder holster, if needed.

Napoleon gave a little wave as he approached the girl.

“Hi there, what’s a pretty thing like you doing all alone out here?”

“Hey man,”she giggled. “Isn’t it pretty...the sky, the clouds, the birds, the mountain. It’s all so cool.”

“Yes it is,” he agreed, not even looking at their surroundings as he focused on her.

“Do you need help? Is your van broken down?”

“What makes you think that?” The girl started happily spinning around in place, bringing her closer to the UNCLE agent.

Napoleon guessed that she was a bit high. His instincts told him he should just leave but instead he leaned against the van, watching her just to make sure she was all right. Suddenly her spinning stopped and she was leaning right against him.

“Hey dude you’re kinda cute,” she smiled.

“Why thank you, and you’re quite pretty. So you don’t need me to do anything for you then.”

“Well maybe you could,” she giggled again.

He leaned in closer, and she towards him to the point where their lips were just about the touch.

“Hey man what the hell do you think you’re doing with my chick?” A musclebound fellow stepped around from the back of the van. He was holding a 20 lb. dumbbell in one hand and had obscenely large biceps, not to mention pectorals, and a rippling abdomen.

Solo took a step back, and then another. “I just stopped to see if your friend here needed help. I thought she was alone and the van might have broken down…”

“What it looked like to me dude, you were making a move on her.”

“No, I was just leaving.”  Napoleon turned tail and saw that Illya had already gotten back in the car and started it.

Solo dove into the passenger seat and slammed the door.

“Punch it”

“BOOM!” There was a loud crash as the dumbbell smashed through the rear window and landed on the back seat.

Illya floored the gas pedal, leaving the van and its occupants behind.

“That was a close call,” Napoleon breathed a sigh of relief.

Kuryakin said nothing.

“What?” Solo finally broke the silence. “No ‘I told you so?”

“Not necessary,” Illya snickered. “You are doing a fine job at berating yourself.”

“How do you know I’m doing that?”

“You have wiped your forehead several times with your handkerchief, even though the temperature is comfortable. That tells me you are upset about what almost happened and you are mentally castigating yourself for making me stop, as well as for not listening to me.”

“All right, I get it. Next time I’ll listen to you.”

“No, just trust your instincts instead of ignoring them when it comes to women. Otherwise a woman will someday be the death of you.”

“Illya, sometimes you can be like a broken record.”

“Oh and like you never repeat yourself? There is the ever popular and repetitive comment you make to me. And I quote, ‘when you got it, you got it and I have it.’

Solo chuckled. “Yeah you’re right about that, but admit it you’ve warned me about women one too many times.”

“I do so only because I worry about you my friend,” Illya sighed.

Now Napoleon felt a little guilty. “I apologize for not listening to you. Tell you what, how about I take over driving and give you a break?”

“What, and you get us lost for the hundredth time?” Kuryakin laughed.

“Is this pick on Solo day?” Napoleon feigned annoyance.

“Oh I like that. An excellent idea. Now let me think what else I can…yes, how are we going to explain a dumbbell having smashed through our rear window to Mr. Waverly?"

“Illya!” 


End file.
